


an oversight in intramural sportsmanship

by scratchienails



Series: Scratchie's old KNB fics [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Crack, Gen, Kuroko died a while back but he's not letting that stop him, Not Really Character Death, Teikou Era, an offensive lack of sportsmanship but that's par of course for the GoM, unapologetic abuse of the rules of basketball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-02 00:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20561078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratchienails/pseuds/scratchienails
Summary: Aka the one where Kuroko is, in fact, actually a ghost and they put him on the court anyway.





	an oversight in intramural sportsmanship

* * *

Satsuki says the third gym is, quote, _totally haunted, Dai-chan, don’t go!_

Well, Daiki’s calling bullshit. He needs an emptier place to practice, so Teikou’s stupid resident ghost story is gonna have to take a hike.

The third years say that its the ghost of a former player, who manages to die in increasingly grisly and absurd ways every time the story is retold. Some senior insists he died from practicing too much, that the coach gave him too many laps and had him running until his feet bled and he died of dehydration. Another guy swears that the now-dead boy died on the court after receiving a nasty elbow to the temple, falling down, and getting trampled by the opposing team.

There are a lot of different variations to the story.

But the parts everyone agrees on is this: that if you go to the third gym when no one else is there, you will hear someone practicing, hear the squeak of sneakers on the court and the telltale bounce of a basketball.

Emphasis on the when no one else is there. The gym is always empty after school, no matter how hard you search.

It’s been like this for about three years. Maybe.

But that all ends today, because Daiki is gonna prove this whole thing is bullshit and get the court all to himself.

And, well, on the off-chance there is a ghost, _that plays basketball_, Daiki will challenge him to one on one, because really, that’s kind of awesome.

* * *

Eerily, the lights are dim in the gym, but Daiki can hear someone practicing within from where he’s peering anxiously at the door.

Someone else just had the sense to not listen to such stupid rumors, Daiki tells himself, man the fuck up and open the door.

Daiki does.

Almost predictably, the gym is empty.

Ha. Ha. Funny.

“Coming in.” Daiki takes a breath and steps in, because Ghostbusters and all that. He’s not afraid of no ghost.

Now, the gym is almost too quiet. Daiki dribbles the ball he brought with him just to fill the quiet, but the smack of the ball on the floor is far from comforting.

But even with the sound echoing in the emptiness, nothing jumps out to murder him, so Daiki tries to force himself to relax and focus on practicing. It’s easy to forget the uneasiness as he settles into the simply rhythm of dribbling up and down the court, making shots and practicing his feints, footwork, and ball control.

Before long, he forgets all about the stupid ghost story.

And then, he starts to push. There are things he wants to do, moves he wants to make, that don’t come quite naturally yet. Twists he can’t make fast enough, shots that aren’t accurate enough, times when the ball doesn’t roll right or he loses his grip. But Daiki knows how he wants to move, what comes naturally, a shapeless knowledge always hovering just out of reach.

So he rocks back on his heels once, twice, rocking, before pushing back and twists, lobbing the ball towards the net. The answering swish is so satisfying he forgets to get his feet back under him, and the floor kindly introduces itself to his face. Off to the side, somewhere, someone makes a noise, half awed, half disappointed. 

Yeah, Daiki gets that a lot.

The ball rolls off on its own as he groans. That hurt. And someone saw too. When had someone else come in? He must have been too caught up in his own play to notice.

“Almost had it that time.” He says as he levers himself up. “Next time, it’ll be perfect.”

The ball rolls back to his feet. He grins gratefully as he glances around, trying to find the other as he picks the ball back up.

But there’s no one.

Well. Okay.

That’s…._that_. Yup.

If he leaves in a bit of a rush after that, well, that was just because he’s starving and would kill for a burger right now. Right.

* * *

Despite the creepiness, Daiki goes back to the third gym. Every time he approaches the door, he hears the telltale sounds of someone inside, working hard. But the moment he opens the door, everything goes quiet and still.

But after that initial total weirdness, the third gym is a pretty great place to practice after practice. There’s no disapproving upperclassmen or overbearing coaches, and more importantly, no Akashi or Nijimura.

And if Daiki starts talking to the emptiness, well, that’s normal. He’s just talking for the sake of talking.

“I’m gonna try something new today.”

…

“It’s gonna be totally awesome.”

…

“I don’t care what Midorima says about proper form. When I’ve got it down, it’s gonna be totally sick.”

…

“Just got to stop landing on my ass every time.”

….

Somehow, the silence sounds like laughter.

The weeks whittle on like that.

And then, Daiki’s complaining. “Akashi says I hold onto the ball too long. He says I need to learn to pass more.”

….

“That’s dumb.”

…

“How do I even practice that on my own.” Just to prove his point, Daiki lobs a pass into the emptiness of the court.

And that’s when the ball comes right back at him.

“…”

“Holy fuck.”

* * *

Alright, so maybe Daiki ran screaming from the gym, and maybe that caught the attention of a couple girls that happened to be walking by after staying too long for club.

Either way, the ghost story is more popular than ever, and it takes a week or two for things to calm down enough for him to return to the third gym without an entourage of curious rubberneckers.

When he finally does, he pauses in the doorway, trying to see something in the nothing. “You don’t always have to stop just ‘cause I’m here.” He tries, feeling silly speaking so directly to the empty gym. “I don’t mind if you keep practicing.”

For a long moment, there’s just the same shallow quietness.

And then, the squeak of sneaker’s resumes.

_Holy fuck_, Daiki thinks but doesn’t say this time, and his heart is beating fast in his chest as he steps onto the court. There’s another ball on the court, he realizes, the shape of it resolving in front of his eyes. It’s worn smooth and slippery, the color dull and brown from use.

“Fuckin’ awesome.” He says, because this is the coolest thing to ever happen, like, ever.


End file.
